Читать книгу Under An Adirondack Sky - Karen Rock - Страница 12
ОглавлениеEIGHT WEEKS LATER, Aiden polished off the last of his ham sandwiches and crumpled the paper bag. It nearly flew from his grip as the school bus jerked over another bump in the dirt road they’d turned onto a mile ago. After eight hours of sitting on cracked, stiff vinyl seats, his cell phone calls to his sister dropping before he could finish last-minute instructions, next to a tuned-out Connor huddled against the window, Aiden wanted the ride to the Adirondack camp to be over.
Yet the dense forest they’d plunged into an hour north of Albany seemed unending. Here and there yellow-green birches appeared among the deep green pines and rustling maples and oaks. Except for a sprinkling of wildflowers, the roadsides lacked the color bursting from street-side planters in his neighborhood. Summer must come late in Upstate New York. Despite it still being June, souring heat already gripped the city.
Here, the crisp air flowing through the window carried the scents of fir trees, wisps of hickory smoke and something fruity...berries. How long since he’d breathed anything beyond exhaust fumes? He studied the wilderness and the towering peaks that’d loomed into view not long ago. They were a different sort of skyscraper than he was used to and more impressive. No wonder this place had convinced his wandering forest ranger brother, Liam, to settle down. Of course his new fiancée, Vivie, had a lot to do with that, as well, Aiden mused.
Amazing that in just one year, his sister had married and two of his brothers, Liam and Niall, had gotten engaged. They had everything Aiden had worked hard for them to achieve: careers and partners of their choice. So why wasn’t he satisfied? When he’d taken over for his father, he’d made peace with letting go of his own aspirations. Yet watching his siblings exchange loving looks with their partners, their unimpeded futures opening before them, he felt a yearning take hold for something more...
But what else could he have? Handle? His life stretched him thin enough to break. While his parents had been in charge, their lives seemed secure and balanced. Now everything, from the struggling tavern, to his mother’s erratic health and now Connor’s possible expulsion from high school, fell short of his father’s standards. Especially Aiden. And according to Ms. Day, he’d also failed Connor.
Perhaps he should accept the financial help his siblings offered and not let his pride stop him from taking handouts. But he was also concerned that if he piled on obligations, they might struggle. He felt great satisfaction in seeing them achieve their dreams and didn’t want anything to get in their way. He just had to do better. Connor, too.
He glanced across the aisle to the bright-haired woman chatting amiably to a man who leaned far too close to her, in Aiden’s estimation. The guy’s loud laugh at each of Ms. Day’s comments grated. Was he here to help kids or hit on women? Their jovial antics set off a slow, steady burn in Aiden’s gut. This “intervention” was nothing but a vacation for the kids and the adults...all but him.
He’d have to work even harder, remotely, to ensure things ran smoothly at home, while keeping an eye on his wayward brother and ensuring he was prepared for the superintendent at the final showcase. Was it too much to ask that Ms. Day keep his brother in check? Aiden stared at her laughing profile and tensed. Nope. She looked ready for fun. Not structure. Connor needed guidance and discipline. If he acted out, got expelled, he might lose the opportunities Aiden wanted for him. The bright future the kid deserved.
Speaking of whom...
“Connor,” he said into his brother’s ear.
The boy jerked away, banged his temple on the metal separating the bus windows, and glared at Aiden. Or seemed to. With his bangs obscuring the upper half of his face, it was hard to tell.
“What the fu—?” he growled, his attempt to sound tough ruined as his voice cracked, vacillating between its upper and lower registers.
“Language,” Aiden said, glancing swiftly at the back of Ms. Day’s head.
“Oh. Right.” Connor shoved back his hair and rolled his eyes. “Like you don’t swear.”
Aiden snatched his brother’s hand-me-down cell phone, a gift from Mary Ann, and unplugged the earbuds. “Enough.”
“Whatever,” he muttered. “Now give me back my cell.”
“No. You’re going to listen to me first.”
“Yeah, like you listen to me.” Connor’s lower lip pushed out and red blotches appeared on his pale face.
Aiden’s hands balled on his lap. Behind them a couple kids started chanting “A hundred bottles of beer on the wall” and Ms. Day rose and scooted down the aisle.
“You’re not going to screw this up,” Aiden stated. “Got it? When the superintendent comes, I want you to—”
“Screw what up? It’s my life. I’ll do what I want.” Connor plugged the wire back into the phone.
Anger boiled up Aiden’s throat and singed his tongue. He grabbed the phone and pocketed it, making Connor jump. “It’s not your life until you’re eighteen. Until then, you follow my rules or get the consequences.”
“As in grounded?” Connor’s narrow mouth trembled at the corners. “You’ll make me stay home after school every day to watch Mom, Daniel and Ella? Oh. Wait.” He tapped his chin, his tone biting. “I already do that.”
“Things can get worse,” Aiden threatened. “I’ll take away your Xbox.”
“Have it. I barely get to play it as it is.”
“And your TV.”
“Same thing.”
“Connor—”
The scent of something floral and exotic enveloped him as Ms. Day stopped at their seat. Leaned close.
“Is everything all right here?” she asked, her voice so low Aiden strained to hear it over the bus chatter.
Concerned blue eyes fell on Connor, who ceased grabbing for the cell and subsided in the seat’s corner.
“Fine,” muttered Aiden. The hairs on his forearms rose when her hand gripped his shoulder as the bus bounced. She swayed on her feet and he nearly gave in to the impulse to grab her waist and steady her. No denying it, she attracted him like no other woman he’d ever met.
“Connor?” she prompted, as if she hadn’t heard Aiden’s assurance.
“I want my phone.” Connor brought his foot up to the seat and rested his head on his knee.
She squatted so that she was at eye level with the boy and Aiden’s chest. He shifted, uncomfortably aware of her proximity and his response to it. “And why did you lose it?”
Connor shrugged and turned his face away, speaking to the window. “Ask him.”
Ms. Day peered up at Aiden, the sudden, intense focus of her stare doing something strange to his heart. “What happened?”
“I wanted him to listen to me, so I took it away.”
She blinked long blond lashes. “Did you ask him for it?”
This was ridiculous. Was she trying to counsel him on the bus? The retreat hadn’t even started.
“No. I didn’t ask him.”
“Why not?”
Connor looked up and glanced between the two of them.
“Because he wouldn’t have given it to me.”
“How do you know?”
“Look. How long have you known my brother? A month or so? I’ve known him for fourteen years. Raised him for ten of them. I think I know him better than you.” Aiden shoved the cell phone back at Connor who, contrarily, glanced at it, then refused to take it. What was the kid trying to prove? That Aiden wasn’t guardian of the year? He didn’t have time to worry about that.
So why, under Ms. Day’s observant stare, did it seem to matter?
“Connor, would you have stopped listening to your music if Aiden asked you?” she inquired in that oh-so-reasonable tone that put Aiden on the defensive.
“Probably not.”
Aiden shot him a surprised look. At last. Honesty. Then again, he’d never known his brother to be a liar.
Ms. Day nodded slowly. “We’ll schedule some family counseling sessions and focus on communication, then.”
A short laugh escaped Aiden. “You think that’s all we need? To talk more?”
She rose and gripped the back of the seat, her pretty face looking less assured. “I think it’s a starting point.”
Her graceful back bent as she slid past her eager seatmate and resumed their animated conversation. Connor plugged in his earbuds and slouched against the window. Aiden leaned his head back on the seat and stared up at the rounded bus ceiling.
A starting point...
Her naive words lingered in his ear, curled through his mind, fired up his imagination. He glanced at his zoned-out sibling.
What new beginning could they have?
They might be sitting close now, but he felt farther from his brother than ever. Would Connor show the necessary progress needed to convince the superintendent in just two weeks?
* * *
THE BUS GROUND to a stop on the dirt-and-pebble drive before a stately white farmhouse with red shutters and a wraparound porch. Rebecca angled her neck from side to side, working out the kinks that’d formed as she’d nodded and listened to the chattering school psychologist beside her. It’d been hard to focus on the guy with the Walsh brothers just a seat behind and diagonal to her. She’d wanted to observe their interactions and begin planning therapy activities guaranteed to help Connor and her other three students to make the gains they’d need to demonstrate at the showcase.
Instead, she’d heard all about her seatmate’s IRONMAN training, something called the paleo diet, gruesome details of his various knee surgeries, his five cats (okay, that’d perked her up) and why, after spending his teenage years training to be a hypnotist-mentalist, he’d decided to use his “powers” for good as a school psychologist.
Oo-kay...
And no, she did not want to be hypnotized at this time, thank you very much, though she’d get back to him. Yes, she’d had to promise, she wouldn’t forget.
Sheesh.
After eight hours of his chain saw voice buzzing in her ear, she needed a break. Maybe even earplugs. Definitely some aspirin and a scroll through her photo library of Freud. She already missed the pup so much. Luckily, her neighbor Marcy had agreed to let him stay for the next two weeks.
Out of the corner of her eye, Rebecca saw Aiden stand to his impressive height, his dark hair nearly brushing the bus’s ceiling.
When he turned to his brother, she gave in to temptation and studied his strong profile. His short, straight nose stopped above a full mouth and strong chin, the jut of which underscored his stubborn side. Yet the tired smudges beneath his eyes, the furrow of his brow, suggested conflict and struggle, too. Something about his face, about him, appealed to the therapist in her and made her want to help him...though it wasn’t her place or her job. She was here for Connor, no matter how much his older brother snared her attention.
“So the bone was just sticking right out of my...” crowed Jeff Cringle, the man beside her.
“Let’s save that one for the campfire, okay?” Rebecca shot to her feet and shouldered her backpack. Enough was enough. Maybe Jeff could turn his “war stories” into a sing-along.
Knowing the teenagers, they’d like the gore factor, too. A win-win.
She waited for the jostling kids and weary adults from the rear of the bus to shuffle by, then looked up when an empty space appeared.
Aiden’s thick eyebrows rose over his startling hazel eyes and he nodded for her to move ahead into the aisle.
“Thanks,” she murmured. Warmth crept up her neck when her shoulder brushed his chest as she slid in front of him.
“You’re welcome.” The deep baritone of his voice rumbled by her ear.
She released a breath once she stepped into the sunshine, then gasped. Turning in a circle, she soaked in the wild beauty around her.
Living with her wealthy aunt, Rebecca had grown up surrounded by beautiful things: one-of-a-kind art pieces, music played by world-famous orchestras, elaborately plated food she’d stared at before devouring. But this untamed riot of nature robbed her lungs of air.
Tree-covered mountains surrounded the farmstead’s large clearing. Their pinnacles rose above the cloud puffs dotting the azure sky, their sides alternating between rocky cliffs and lushly forested angles. It looked as if someone had adjusted the whole world’s tint to green. Who knew there were so many shades of it? Mint, emerald, hunter, olive, kelly, teal and that fancy one that was always the last in her old crayon boxes—what was it? Chartreuse! She couldn’t come close to naming all of them, she thought, studying the sweeping tree lines and thick brush. The effect instantly released the tension in her shoulders and relaxed her tight neck.
“It’s beautiful,” she murmured.
“Do we have cell service up here?” asked Aiden. He had his head down, scowling at his screen, oblivious to the miracle he’d stepped into.
“It’s sketchy, I’m told, but there’s a phone in the farmstead. We’ll use walkie-talkies when we hike and camp.”
“I’m more concerned about checking my business.”
She dragged her eyes off the swooping falcons overhead, their cries sharp and joyous, and took in Aiden’s grim face. His naturally pale skin looked even whiter around his pressed lips. Her gaze swerved to Connor, who stood awkwardly on the edge of the group of students sorting through the luggage heap.
“You should be more concerned about your brother,” she muttered quietly.
“I’ve got to make sure he still has a home to return to when we get back.” Aiden stalked off and reached ahead of his brother to grab one of the large duffel bags the driver tossed off the back of the bus.
Rebecca held in a sigh. This was definitely going to be one of her toughest cases and she wasn’t sure which Walsh brother would be the hardest to crack. If she didn’t get through to them, they’d probably put on a boxing match at the showcase. It’d take more than one student’s failure to demonstrate progress for her superintendent to give her and the program a bad evaluation. Still, she really wanted to succeed with Connor.
“What? No bars?” screeched a nearby boy, who turned in a circle, his phone held high as if checking for radiation.
Several other students pawed at their phones and a frantic groan rose from the group.
“Do they even have internet here?” cried one of the chaperones, a parent from another district. She looked as upset as the kids.
“How will we survive?” moaned a girl as she tightened the band around the bottom of her side braid.
“Or call our friends and families?” A boy frowned at the cell phone he cradled. A screen door squealed and an older man and woman appeared on the porch. With his worn overalls stretched over a potbelly and her rooster-patterned apron belted around a small waist, they looked like they’d stepped from another era.
“Welcome,” boomed the ruddy man, whose thick, white beard curled beneath his chin and jaw. As for his head, not a wisp broke up the smooth dome of flesh. “I’m Marty Sikes and this is my wife, Judith.”
The dainty woman’s wide smile revealed a little too much gum, the color only a shade lighter than her short auburn perm. “Hello, everyone,” she called.
Several of the adults called back, as well as a few kids. Rebecca shot the four students she’d brought from her school a significant look and was gratified when Connor stopped bending a stick back and forth and flipped a hand in Mrs. Sikes’s direction.
Baby steps, Rebecca reminded herself. For all her kids. Would they add up to enough progress to impress the superintendent?
The group pressed closer to the base of the stairs. “Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Sikes,” Rebecca began. “Some of the kids are worried. Do you have internet? Wi-Fi?”
Mr. Sikes scratched his head. “Can’t see why.”
A gasp rippled through the crowd and one of her students, Tameya, gripped Rebecca’s arm hard. “Can’t see why we don’t get on the bus and leave,” she whispered.
Rebecca held in a laugh and patted the girl’s hand before prying it off her numb arm and turning to the group. “We’d been waiting to announce this, but cell phone use will be restricted to one hour before bedtime and designated free time. Our focus is on each other and ourselves. We can’t do that if we’re on our phones all the time, so let’s look at this as a positive.”
“But what’ll we do for fun?” said a boy from the back of the group. He pulled off his Yankees’ cap, then replaced it backward. A murmur of agreement pulsed through the crowd.
Judith Sikes shrugged narrow shoulders. “Well. I’m going to teach you how to make jar candles for starters.”
“No!”
“What?”
“I’m allergic to wax.”
Tameya closed her eyes and tipped her head back, letting her perfect, long black plaits sweep across her shoulders. “Wake me when this is over.”
“Needlepoint,” continued Judith, undeterred.
“I’m not allowed to touch needles,” called a girl, her hands on her hips.
“These are a different kind, dear,” the woman said kindly.
“Then there’s bird watching,” suggested her husband, setting off another round of groans.
Rebecca glanced around and noted Aiden’s continued efforts to get a signal. Connor propped a foot on the lower rail of a fence, his expression closed off. They couldn’t look less together. Didn’t even seem like they were a part of this group...not that that was a good thing right now.
“Of course, I can show you some of the ones I’ve stuffed,” Marty Sikes added, offhand.
“Eww!” chorused some of the kids.
“I will seriously pass out if I see one of those,” gasped Tameya.
“Cool,” blurted the boy in the baseball cap as he shoved to the front of the throng. “Like taxidermy? I saw that in a movie, except the killer sewed up people he lured to his farm and...”
His voice trailed off and an appalled silence fell as the kids looked at each other, then at the Sikeses.
“And we can’t even call for help,” whispered Tameya between clenched teeth.
Rebecca stepped forward. Enough was enough. “Mr. and Mrs. Sikes are the caretakers for the property and will be supplementing some of our planned activities with other, er, unique tasks that you’ll get to choose.”
The unsettled group hushed and Jeff joined her as they climbed the porch and stood beside the Sikeses. Aiden peered up from his phone and met her gaze, his expression challenging.
“We’ll be leading you on hikes from here nearly every day,” said Jeff.
“Take you canoeing on the Ausable River,” added Rebecca.
“And don’t forget rock climbing. Marty here’s a pro.” Judith patted her husband’s arm and the kids’ eyes widened. “He goes ice climbing, too.”
“Whoa,” someone muttered.
“And those mountains.” Rebecca pointed at two of the tallest. “We’ll be climbing them.”
“No way,” cried another boy, sounding impressed.
“Can we get cell service from up there?”
“Guess we’ll have to find out,” said Rebecca, smiling.
“And camping,” continued Jeff. “We’ve got overnight trips planned. Campfires. S’mores.”
“Mountain biking,” piped another psychologist, looking down at the trip’s itinerary. Journey. Rebecca studied her, remembering her unusual name from their earlier meetings.
“What about TV?”
“Happy to report we’ve got all three channels,” said Marty proudly.
Tameya flipped up her hoodie and pulled the strings. “This is going to suck so bad,” she mumbled, her voice just loud enough for Rebecca to make out.
“We’ll even be catching the fish we eat,” contributed another therapist. Tony. No. Tommy. That was it.
“Lots of trout for you to clean.” Marty rubbed his hands together.
“Eww,” squealed the kids again.
“All right, everyone,” announced Rebecca. Time to move on. “Grab your gear and head inside. Put your stuff next to a bunk. The girls’ rooms have an orange ribbon on the doorknob. The boys have purple. Rooms with only two bunks are for adults. But don’t get too cozy. Our first overnight trip starts tomorrow.”
As they streamed around her, she called, “And no taking off the ribbons.”
Within minutes, the porch cleared, leaving her standing alone at the rail. Or so she thought.
Aiden leaned against a newel post, studying her. “You should have told me about the cell phone situation.”
“Why is that so important?”
He paced along the porch, the wood squeaking beneath his boots. When he stopped, he spoke without looking at her. “It’s everything to me right now.”
“Maybe that’s the problem.” Rebecca drew close and stood beside him. The sun bobbed above the tree line, looking reluctant to be put away for the night. “Work isn’t everything.”
“It’s not a problem—it’s how life is. My life.” A muscle jumped in his jaw. “Plus you’re working, here.”
“With the kids...”
“But it’s for your tenure, right?”
Her cheeks warmed. “That’s part of it, but helping the children is my focus.” A couple of blue jays battled for turf in a tall pine, squawking as they chased each other among the boughs.
“One of the teachers said something about you not having it...but you’re still a teacher, I mean psychologist. I guess I don’t understand.” Aiden swished his hand, shooing away the voracious blackflies.
She wanted Aiden to open up on the trip. Maybe if she confided in him, he’d let down his guard. “I’m in what’s called a probationary period, which means I can be fired without the school having to provide a reason. It begins the day you get hired and, after about two and a half years, the school board votes if they intend to grant you tenure at the end of your third year. Once you have that, you’re a permanent employee.”
Aiden gave up shooing the bugs and pulled his collar tighter around his neck. “And that means you can’t be fired?”
“No. It means they have to have a valid reason that goes beyond school politics or personal differences.” She wanted that security so badly she could taste it. Would it be hers?
He tilted his head back and studied her. “And how long have you worked at the school?”
She shifted on her feet, fighting the impulse to keep this private. It was all public knowledge to taxpayers, anyway. “This is the end of my third year.”
Aiden turned and seemed to be watching something in the distance. The faint chill in the air turned the tips of his ears pink. “So why don’t you have it?”
“It’s unusual for me not to know yet.” She jumped at a loud zap and noticed a bug light glowing at the porch’s corner. “I suppose they want to see a little more of my work before they’re convinced.”
His eyes flicked sideways at her. “So this showcase the superintendent is coming to see...”
“Is pretty important to me.”
Aiden nodded slowly. “And Connor.”
“Yes.” They stared at each other for a long moment.
“When’s the last time you took time off?” Rebecca asked, ready to get this conversation back on Aiden and off her.
“Until now? Not more than a day or two since my father died. I’m needed there.”
Her heart squeezed as she imagined Aiden’s predicament. She had to work hard, too, and knew the toll it took. It wasn’t her plan to upset him or cause him stress, but he needed to wake up and realize what else he might be missing in life than work hours.
“I understand. But you’re needed here, too,” she said, touching his tense arm lightly. They both stared at Connor, who, unlike the rest of the teens, still lingered outside, toppling rocks off a low stone fence. “More than you know.” She turned on her heel and headed inside before she said more than she should.
The time would come for brutal honesty, but it started with peeling off layers.
And when it came to Aiden, she felt like she’d barely scraped back the skin.
